


Make Me Wait

by thedisgruntledone



Series: Unfair Exchange [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisgruntledone/pseuds/thedisgruntledone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana is concerned. Will twists in the wind and waits, wondering if the other shoe is ever going to drop, or if he'll have to find a different way to get her out of Dr. Lecter's clutches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Wait

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a second bit that I never intended to write. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you to all the people who kudosed and commented on the last bit. It was far more than I expected.

It took nearly a month for Alana to finally confront him with her suspicions. Nearly a month in which Will went to each of his scheduled appointments with Lecter expecting him to cash in again on Will’s rash offer to give himself to the man in exchange for Alana’s freedom, and instead receiving nothing but the therapy he’d purportedly shown up for. Nearly a month in which there was no hint that anything had ever taken place between them – that Will had ever crawled into the other man’s lap and lost his control briefly at his touch, despite himself. Nearly a month in which every time he saw Alana she was calm, composed – nothing to show if the man that she had so recently taken up with had ended things without so much as a hint that it was coming. It was enough time that Will started to suspect that Lecter had decided not to end his affair with Alana, after all – if he’d even intended to in the first place. Will had the uncomfortable feeling that his offer hadn’t been enticing enough – perhaps he’d been a complete idiot to allow him such immediate access. He should have waited for Lecter to fulfill his end before he ever allowed him to put his hands on Will.

These thoughts caused shame to settle in his gut like lead. He tried not to remember how he’d reacted to Lecter, how he’d squirmed in the other man’s lap and pulled him closer, desperate to feel the pleasure he’d been promised. He tried, but often failed, and the heat that shot through him when he did only made the shame he felt at giving in that much worse.  He did his best not to show it, to bury the feeling as far as it would go and ignore it, but he was pretty sure Lecter at least was aware of his struggle – there was something delighted in his eyes whenever he looked at Will, and Will often thought bitterly that his discomfort and shame were getting Lecter off far more than Will’s body ever could. He was giving Lecter all the satisfaction in the world simply by allowing himself to feel anything.

He resigned himself as best he could to the idea that Lecter would not release Alana – both because he enjoyed her, as he’d once said himself, and because if he stayed involved with her it increased Will’s discomfort – so it came as a definite surprise when she found him after one of his classes and he ccould read the end of the whole affair all over her expressive face. She wasn’t horribly upset about it, he decidedas he watched her get her thoughts together briefly, but she was baffled. Baffled and worried, because the end of their was far too close to Will’s return to therapy, and she was afraid that without her to ground him, Hannibal would once again allow himself to become more involved in Will’s brand of crazy than he should be. She was worried that he would be in danger if he had no one to watch his back. He read this on her in seconds, and bit back a bitter laugh at how wrong she was, this woman who was usually so insightful and spot on in her analysis of others.

Alana took a breath, then let it out. “You’ve resumed your therapy.”

It wasn’t a question, but Will answered her with a small nod anyway, made sure that he met her eyes squarely and maintained the contact. It unnerved her, because she was used to a Will who averted his gaze whenever possible. The new, confident Will Graham made her nervous because she was unsure of what he was capable of. Will wanted to reassure her, but knew that she wouldn’t accept it from him, not anymore. Anything that he could possibly have said would have only served to make her even more wary of his motives.

It was that wariness that had prompted her to seek him out despite the awkwardness of their last meeting. She wanted him to know that she was onto him, that she thought that he was going to try to manipulate Hannibal. She wasn’t wrong about that, even if she was off base about his motivations. He wasn’t going to try to stop her from saying what she needed to, wasn’t going to try and explain. He owed it to her to hear her out, he figured, considering he was the one who had orchestrated the break that had caused her current tumult of emotions.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for either of you,” she continued in that blunt but oddly considerate way of hers. Will was fully aware that it was Lecter’s mental state only she cared about in that instance – she’d lost her faith in Will’s ability to curb his darker impulses when he’d tried to end Lecter’s life by proxy, though it couldn’t be proven and the charges had been dropped. She saw Will clearly enough to believe that he’d done it, even if she didn’t seem to see Lecter enough to understand _why_.

“I think that we would be the best judges of what is healthy for us and what isn’t,” He answered gently, deliberately, without any bitterness. He still felt betrayed by her, was still angry at her refusal to consider even once that he might not have murdered all those people, her refusal to believe in him, but he still cared for her as well. He’d cared for her for so long that he wasn’t sure he quite knew how to stop, even if he could never see her the same way he used to.

“I don’t. You tried to _murder_ Hannibal, Will. He would have died if Gideon hadn’t told me what you were up to. You thought he was the Chesapeake Ripper, were so convinced of it that you sent Matthew Brown to murder him. And now you’re back in therapy. Do you really expect me – expect _anyone_ to believe that all that hatred just disappeared?”

Will tried to smile genially. From the sour look Alana gave back, it didn’t work. “Allegedly. I _allegedly_ tried to kill him, and if I once believed him to be the Chesapeake Ripper, well, I’ve been proven wrong, haven’t I? Chilton was the Ripper, and he was well punished.” He ran a hand over his face, suddenly tired of the entire conversation. “Whatever residual feelings I have regarding Hannibal Lecter, I have to get past them. He’s the only one who can help me do that. I’m not going to hurt him, Alana.” _I only intend to make sure he pays for what he’s done_. He left the last unsaid, wondered if she heard it anyway. As he studied her face, he didn’t think she had.

She searched his eyes carefully, frowning. He allowed it, let her see his sincerity. The frown relaxed slightly, but she still wasn’t happy. Not there was much she could do about it. Alana nodded once, sharply, and turned away from him. Their conversation was over, and she didn’t want to linger. He understood and appreciated the sentiment, but he needed one last thing from her before she went.

“Did you by any chance mention your concerns to Dr. Lecter?”

She didn’t turn to look at him, but her back stiffened slightly. “Yes.” Her head tilted briefly to one side, and a wry note entered her voice as she went on. “Not that he’s listening to anything I have to say at the moment.” She walked away, her heels tapping briskly on the floor, and he allowed himself to watch her and to imagine, for one brief moment, a world in which she wasn’t always walking away from him.

He’d just about finished packing up his things after office hours some time later, and was getting ready to head to his next therapy session, when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the name on the display, though he didn’t really need to. He’d been waiting for this particular call since the moment Alana had stepped into his classroom and asked if they could talk. Will accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear without speaking. He knew that he didn’t need to.

“Good afternoon, Will. I hope that I have managed to get a hold of you soon enough that you have not yet left for our appointment?”

“I was just getting ready to head that way. Haven’t even left the office.”

“I'm glad. I wouldn’t want you to make an extraneous trip, after all. This is a bit unorthodox, but I was hoping that you might be convinced to have tonight’s session in my home. I find myself rather exhausted from the day and am afraid that I would be unable to make the drive home, short as it is, should I stay in the office much longer. We could, of course, reschedule if you prefer that the appointment take place here.”

Will barely held back the incredulous laugh that rose in his throat. He believed precisely none of what Lecter had told him, was positive that the doctor wasn’t even in his office at all, but was already at home, readying himself for whatever he’d planned for the night. There would be no therapy, Will knew. This was it – this was the point at which Lecter finally fully accepted the offer that Will had made nearly a month prior. If he said yes, that their scheduled appointment could happen at Lecter’s, there would be no going back.

Will closed his eyes, ignored the drop in his stomach that felt far too much like anticipation for his peace of mind.

“Your home is fine, Doctor. I’ll see you there.”

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises. I have no clue where this is going, and honestly didn't expect to write anything but the first fic. Also, I can't write porn to save my life, so that might be where all of this ends. I just don't know.


End file.
